Happiness
by MutantNinjaPickle
Summary: You are suspended in the black water, the black nothing, unable to live but denied the sweet escape of death. J/B Oneshot because I love these little things.


A/N: Basically, this is based off the whole "what if" Edward left Bella for a second time. This is definitely not my best piece, and it's a little dark, but I pulled an all-nighter writing this and figured that for all my efforts I might as well post it up here for you fine people. So, enjoy and review, please! =)

Disclaimer: If the Twilight Saga belonged to me, Edward would have gotten torn apart by the Volturi and Bella would have ended up with Jacob and the demon spawn would never have existed. Did this happen? No. So this obviously doesn't belong to me.

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You lie, like a broken rag doll, among the shattered remnants of the life that was never meant to be, and when the shards bite at your skin you barely notice, because how could you hurt anymore than you already have? What small prick could possibly compare to His voice as He told you He loved you and didn't mean it? What gash could possibly be big enough to block out how He promised you "forever" and "happy endings"? You bleed, and as it pools around what is left of your body, you can't stop yourself from thinking about how close you were to that life without blood, without warmth or your stupid human flaws, that life where you would be His, where you would be beautiful and dead and _happy_. And when the fantasy disappears (just like He did), you don't even try to stop your head from slipping under the sea of your own blood and tears and hate, because as far as you are concerned you have been drowning this entire time and you just want your heart to stop already.

But it doesn't. You hold your breath and pretend you're dead so it won't hit so hard when you actually do die, but you don't. You are suspended in the black water, the black nothing, unable to live but denied the sweet escape of death. You open your mouth to breathe, to scream, but you only inhale the darkness and your lungs burn and the water floods your empty body and you ignore the cruel cries from somewhere above the surface, somewhere in the light, that beg you to return to them, to the pain and the reality and the truth. You don't want the truth. You want The End, so you no longer have to continue this fairy tale that turned out to be more like a nightmare. So you let yourself sink lower in the water and wait for the release that may never come, and you are left with nothing but the heavy thud of your heartbeat and the memories of Him.

And just when Death's claws begin to scratch at your scarred back, those strong hands that you can't help but think have rescued you before close gently around your battered form and lift you up from the shadows, bringing you back to the light and the air and the truth that you don't want. And when the light thrusts life back down your rusted throat and the warmth chars your shredded flesh, you want to go back to the darkness, back to the silence and the ice and The End because it reminds you of Him. But the strong, familiar hands hold you tightly and carry you away from the pool, away from Death's longing clutches, and when you are finally released, you find yourself in a room that seems distantly familiar and you can't find your way back to the black water.

So instead you crawl under the sheets that smell like earth and spice and something you can't recognize and you hide from the light and those strong hands and tell yourself that you will never be happy, because He left you and you must have done something to deserve it. And when the people, the humans, that you knew back when you were whole come to visit, you block out their voices and close your eyes to be closer to the darkness, because you want to be left alone and you want to go back to the pool and Bella Swan has always been a very selfish person.

But, slowly and cautiously, the strong hands that pulled you from the water you so desperately want peel back the covers and the distantly familiar boy watches you with eyes that will you to trust him, dark eyes that make your heart jolt and your stomach melt and make you forget about the water for just a moment. And when he calls you honey and asks if you are okay, you don't block out his husky voice and you can't bear to shut your eyes because then you wouldn't be able to see his. So you scrutinize those dark, mesmerizing things that suddenly seem like life support and you shake your head and tell him you will never be happy again, and he laughs and his eyes shine and he calls you stupid and you don't mind.

And as the days pass by (you actually pay attention to time now), you think about happiness and wonder if you were wrong. And as your cuts begin to heal and your lungs begin to breathe without you forcing them to and you begin to _live_ again, you realize that happiness is not something you can only feel around Him, and you don't think you were ever actually happy around Edward (whose name you can now say because you have healed, because Jacob has helped you heal). You told yourself you were happy because that was what He wanted, and He was what you wanted, and you fooled Him long enough to fool yourself. But now you find happiness in so many other things, it's no longer pretend, _it'srealrealreal_, and you like this so much more.

Happiness is letting the sunlight streaming through your window wake you up, and moving into the small, red house in the little town you once hated.

Happiness is going swimming with your friends in the summer without having nightmares about black water and reaching claws.

Happiness is visiting Charlie every once in a while, and the smile on his face when he tells you that Sue is moving in in a few days.

Happiness is the way your heart jolts and your stomach melts whenever you see the smile of that beautiful boy who has strong hands and dark eyes and smells like earth and spice and hope, and the way your toes curl when he kisses you.

And you know that you will never forget Him, and there will always be scars, but you have grown to realize that you no longer need forever and happy endings and a sparkling, dead prince to sweep you off your feet. Instead you have the tall, beautiful, _real_ boy who pieced you back together and who will always be there to save you from drowning.

And you know that with Jacob, there is no happy ending; there is just _happy_.


End file.
